Trepidation
by TardisBlueMermaid
Summary: Ariel must comfort a panicked Eric after he gets cold feet and goes missing just moments before his coronation is about to begin.


**Trepidation**

Ariel watched as Carlotta finished stitching up a seam that had popped last minute in Ariel's coronation gown. It was only fitting that something would go wrong last minute. They had so much trouble leading up to this event. Eric faced last minute political backlash over his succession to the throne. The King's crown had come up missing just a week prior leading to mass chaos within the castle, although it only turned out to be a misunderstanding about when it was to be polished. Then, it seemed as though simple arrangements were falling apart last minute.

As if Eric wasn't already nervous enough over the prospect of being crowned and making his rule official, the past week only added to his stress. But, at last, the day had come, and they were just minutes away from heading to the church for the ceremony. A popped seam was nothing. Carlotta fixed it in no time, and then they could be on their way.

Or so Ariel thought.

There was a knock on the door of the private room the ladies were using. Carlotta called the person in. It was Grimsby.

"Have either of you seen Eric?" he asked, a concerned look on his face.

Carlotta shook her head. "We thought he was with you."

Grimsby pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed his forehead. "He was. We were waiting for your return, but I turned my attention away from him for one second and he vanished. No one can find him, and we have to leave soon if we hope to remain on schedule."

Ariel sighed. Eric was the definition of a nervous wreck, but she never expected him to disappear mere minutes before it all would begin. When she asked him about his feelings in regard to the coronation, he would tell her it was very stressful, but she could tell he was holding more thoughts back. Still, she assumed this all to be normal nervousness for a king-to-be and thought he could make it just a few more days. Now, she wished she had forced it out of him. This was her fault. She should have known her husband better.

"I'll go find him," Ariel declared.

They agreed and Carlotta squeezed Ariel's hand in a thankful gesture before she took off in search of her husband. The castle was big, and Eric knew all of its hiding spots. Luckily, Ariel knew a few of his favorite spots.

* * *

"Good luck, Your Highness," one of the Council members wished Eric, shaking his hand firmly.

Eric forced a smile, wishing his own hands weren't so sweaty. "Thank you."

It seemed as though that was the millionth "good luck" wish he had received that morning alone. Eric wasn't sure luck was going to cut it.

Once the member turned away, Eric took a second to wipe his hands on his pants; he knew there would be more handshakes waiting. He then tried to adjust some of the weight on his shoulders from his heavy coronation robe but was unsuccessful. The thick material made it hard to manage, and he continued to feel its weight on his shoulders.

It was funny. Its size and elegant design was supposed to symbolize the important status of a king. Instead, Eric only felt that the heavy robe represented the weight that weighed on his shoulders as he took up the unwanted responsibilities of a king.

"...would be proud," Eric heard a voice speak to him, but lost in thought, he had missed what was said. Who would be proud?

"I'm sorry. What was that?"

An old Council member had spoken to him. They were all old and stuffy—worse than Grimsby, and some much less supportive. Eric couldn't deny he was excited to choose younger men for his own Council as his first official act as king.

The politician reached forward to shake Eric's hand. "I said, your father would be proud."

Oh. His father.

"Uh, yes. I suppose so," Eric responded, noting that his hands were still clammy.

In truth, Eric wasn't sure how his father would feel about him. He would probably be glad to see his heir _finally_ become king. If he would be proud of him was another story. Eric couldn't help but feel his strict father would not be happy with Eric's softer side. If anything, his father would be disappointed it had taken so long for Eric to be crowned. His studies were planned out to be finished upon his 18th birthday, but Eric had taken some months off to spend at sea, pushing back his studies by nearly a year and postponing his crowning. He would never regret doing so. In fact, he was wishing he was back out at sea in the open air instead of in a crowded, stuffy room.

Eric's attention turned towards the crowd of people gathered in the foyer. Fifteen of the men were part of the royal council. Ten of them still remained from his father's council; the other five replaced men who had chosen to retire in the years following his father's death. The replacements were chosen, not by Eric however, but by his uncle, who served as regent until Eric was 16. He hadn't even waited until Eric was ready to be crowned to step down, instead wanting to return to his life out of the royal spotlight the second he could. The Council had then begun the smooth transition of power by gradually giving Eric more independent duties and decisions based upon his completed studies.

Also among the crowd were a dozen other officials helping the event take place. Eric spotted Grimsby holding papers, barking orders and reminders. He would have to remember to thank him later for organizing everything and keeping it from falling apart. There were also many of the castle staff about, also assisting with preparations and seeing that everyone was taken care of.

They were all waiting for Ariel to return with her dress patched up—why was everything for the coronation going wrong? Once she returned, they could all get into their respective carriages and begin the procession to the church. Eric hoped the women finished up soon. He wasn't sure how much longer he could wait for things to proceed. He was nervous waiting for his wedding to begin, but he wasn't _this_ nervous.

His heart pounded in his chest so hard it seemed as though he could hear it even though the crowd was so loud—too loud actually. Eric wanted the chatter to cease. He couldn't think straight, but perhaps he couldn't think straight because he had too many nervous thoughts racing through his head.

Of course he was worried he might trip on his robe while walking down the aisle, or that he might mispronounce parts of the oath. They were all normal fears anyone would have before taking part in such an important ceremony, but that was the _easy_ part. Those fears would be gone as soon as the ceremony was complete. Once he was crowned, however, his real fears would officially become reality.

Eric did not want to be king. His father was king. Much of his kingdom hated his father, and they were relieved of him once he had passed. For the past 11 years they had no official king, no one man with all the power, but now, Eric was receiving all of it. He was filling his father's position—the one the people hated. Eric had no desire to fill his father's shoes as his father had wished.

His shaky right hand went to his left pinky finger, feeling the signet ring he wore on it. It was passed down through generations of his family. His father was the last to wear it as king. It now belonged to Eric.

Eric looked down the hall, hoping to see Ariel coming back, but she wasn't. He wondered if all the issues they had faced in preparation for the coronation meant he wasn't supposed to be crowned, perhaps to protect the people, Ariel, and even _himself_.

Someone had spoken something to Eric as they passed him, but he didn't hear what they had said. The noise in the room all began to sound jumbled as the grand foyer began to feel much smaller and warmer.

Eric longed for his robe to be taken off. It trapped the heat inside within it, making his body feel as if it were in an oven. He knew he needed to calm down or it was only going to get worse. He tried taking a slow, deep breath, but it did nothing. His lungs instead demanded more and more air which each breath seemed it couldn't supply enough of.

He felt pathetic standing there, shaking, sweating, and struggling to breathe. Eric began making his way out of the crowd, trying to regain his composure enough to not create attention. He only wished to get away from everyone and get some fresh air.

The nine-foot-long train of his robe followed behind him as he walked past the grand staircase. Eric moved slowly, not only to avoid bringing attention to himself, but because he found himself suddenly struggling to keep his balance. Still, he fought it, an overwhelming amount of adrenaline spreading through him, urging him to continue fleeing without thinking it through.

Once away from the crowd, he still felt as though the hall was closing in on him. His robe felt too tight; he needed to take it off. Eric's trembling hands struggled to unclasp his robe. They clawed at it until he managed to undo it, the soft robe then falling quietly to the floor.

By then, he had made it just a little further down the hall to the servants' staircase, where he could make a quiet, unseen exit. He needed to get fresh air. He needed to get away from everyone, from the noise, and from the prospect of becoming king.

He was not capable of becoming king, Eric believed that. He wouldn't be able to handle it. He would fail his people, and he wouldn't be able to avoid the awful _changes_ it would bring him.

* * *

When Ariel stepped out onto the roof of the barbican, she found Eric sitting on the steps of the marble gazebo. He leaned forward on his knees, staring at the signet ring he held with both his hands. He had taken off his fancy jacket and thrown it haphazardly over the steps, leaving him in just the plain white shirt he wore underneath. The sleeves were messily rolled up as if he was trying to cool himself off. His heavy coronation robe was nowhere in sight; Ariel hoped Grimsby had it.

A startled Eric looked behind him when he heard Ariel enter, but he quickly turned away and returned to his position to avoid her eye contact. He was even scared to talk to his wife.

She walked over and carefully sat beside him, wishing her beautiful coronation gown wasn't so large. Gently, she asked, "Eric, what's wrong?"

He remained looking down and shook his head, not wanting to talk about it. Ariel placed a hand on his shoulder, but Eric shook it off and rose. Shoving the ring into his pants pocket, he moved to the low wall surrounding the barbican. Eric placed a hand on the top of the wall to stabilize himself, the other tugged on the collar of his shirt.

"I can't do this," he quickly admitted, his voice hitching at the end.

"What do you mean?" Ariel asked, rising to join him. "Of course you can."

"No, I can't!" he exclaimed, pushing himself away from the wall and running a shaky hand through his hair. His already disheveled hair indicated he had been doing it often.

Ariel cautiously took a step closer. "Why? Tell me _why_ you feel you can't. I know it's more than just the pomp and circumstance of the ceremony that's bothering you."

"I can't become king. I'll be a disaster. What if I drive this country to ruins?" he rambled off thoughts that had been running through his head since he ran away. "And look at everything that's gone wrong leading up to today! It's all a sign. I'm not meant to take up the crown. I can't do this Ariel. I-I just can't. I can't-can't go back out there."

Eric was very worked up. It seemed to Ariel he was hyperventilating. He was breathing very fast and he couldn't stand still, walking around in small circles and constantly running his fingers through his hair.

Ariel had never seen her husband like this before. It scared her, breaking her heart until she wanted to cry, but she knew she had to remain calm during his panic if there was any hope of helping him.

She grabbed his shoulders to quit his pacing and steady him. Her hands then moved to the sides of his face, making sure he was looking at her while also giving him a comforting touch. His skin was very clammy.

"Eric, look at me. You need to calm down. Take a deep breath. You need to breathe," she encouraged, taking a deep breath herself. "Breathe."

He didn't follow her orders at first and instead struggled against her touch, but Ariel kept begging him to breathe. Eventually, her soothing voice gave him something to focus on as he began to slow his breath with deep breaths and long exhales matching the ones she was demonstrating.

With Eric's breathing under control, Ariel smiled, but that was only one problem solved. She had to convince him he could do this. "Now listen to me, Eric. All the issues we had are _not_ related to your ability to rule. You've already been doing so, and the country's been doing great!"

"But the Council has still been helping with a large portion of the work" Eric cut in to protest. "They've only given me the easy stuff they deemed I could do with the studies I had already finished, but now that I've completely finished my studies it's _all_ going to be dropped on me."

"Let's be honest. None of this is easy. You've already tackled lots of challenging tasks and made some important decisions."

"But the people don't even want me to be king."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous. A few old politicians don't like you. When do they ever like anyone?" Ariel replied. "We ignore them. It's the people's opinion who count, and they love you."

"Not all of them."

"Okay, but every leader has those who don't like them. Some people don't like Daddy, but he doesn't let them bother him. You can't either, and you are still liked by _so many_ of our people."

Eric shook his head. "That's while I'm just a prince. When I become king, the title will remind everyone of my father, _King Frederick._ They don't mind me as a naïve prince, but as king..."

Ariel reached up to brush a piece of messy hair out of his face. "You're worried people will compare you to your father?"

Eric nodded his head. He hadn't told anyone about his fears—except for Max, of course. It felt good knowing she knew. Perhaps she could comfort him, but yet, Eric knew he was still withholding.

"Oh, darling. They won't do that. They won't even think about it. You've already proven yourself to be better than him over the past years. They know you'll rule with the people's best interests at heart. This title isn't going to change anything. Besides, to us, you're King _Eric_, not King Frederick. You are your own man."

He closed his eyes, nodding as he processed what she said. She was so sweet to him, but he couldn't help but feel she was sweeter and more innocent than what he deserved. Eric then pulled her closer to him, only wishing to hold and cherish her.

Ariel hugged him tight, rubbing his back soothingly. His body was warm, overheated from panicking. She then felt something wet land on her cheek, and when she looked up, she saw it had been a tear that had rolled down Eric's own cheek.

She reached up to brush the remaining wetness from his cheek. "Listen to me. I love you. You are the kindest man I have ever met. Everyone can see that. Who else would let a ditzy mermaid come into their home and love her? You have more than just my support, too. There's Carlotta and Grimsby. My father and sisters think you can do great things, and _your people_ believe in you. If all that's not enough and you don't believe it, then just know that _I_ believe in you more than anyone. I know I married the right man."

"But what if I _become_ my father?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"What?"

"You might think I'm a good man now but being king is so taxing on a man. The weight and fatigue from it can break a man and strip him of all his good. What if that happens to me? What if it breaks me and I become like my father: a harsh leader, a harsh man, a harsh husb-"

Ariel put her finger to his lips to prevent him finishing the word. "No. No, you won't become that, any of it. Your father was weak and used his harshness to hide it, but you, you are strong. You will never have to become a bad man to make up for your insecurities. And like I said, you are so kind. I know you'll _never_ let yourself fall into darkness."

"But-"

"You have so much support to help you figure things out. I'll make sure you'll always have it. You just make sure you accept it."

Eric smiled; a sense of security washed over him. "I don't know what I did to deserve you."

He took a shaky breath. Though he wished to be alone, he couldn't deny the thankfulness he felt when his wife had found him. Ariel always managed to calm him down when he was worked up, no matter what it was. Her delicate touch sent calming warmth throughout his body. Eric cupped her cheek. She smiled in return.

"You're a wonderful man and a great leader. That's what you did to deserve me," she said as she reached into his pocket. She pulled out the signet ring he was holding earlier. It was his father's, brought into Eric's possession after the late king's death.

Ariel took Eric's left hand and slid the ring onto his pinky finger. She then looked up at him. "Now, come on. Grimsby's going to have a heart attack if he doesn't find you soon. He's really proud of you, you know."

Eric's gaze remained upon his finger. Though still nervous, he finally gave a small smile and a nod, indicating he was ready to return.

Ariel picked up his jacket, hitting it gently to shake off any dirt that may have collected on it. She then helped Eric put it on and fastened its golden buttons seeing as though his hands were still shaking.

"Thank you," he said, adjusting the jacket on him once she was finished.

Ariel gave him a kiss in return and grabbed his hand to lead him back inside and down to meet the carriage.

They were greeted in the foyer by Grimsby and Carlotta, along with the other staff members and important officials. Carlotta rushed over to Eric with a comb taken from one of the servants and began fixing his hair. When she was finished, she kissed him on the cheek before handing him off to Grimsby.

Grimsby placed a hand on Eric's shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. He then motioned for two manservants to come forward with Eric's coronation robe. They obliged, placing the top on his shoulders and then straightening it out behind him. Eric realized it no longer felt as heavy as it once did. Grimsby then clasped it over his collarbone.

"I'm _very_ proud of the man you've become," he told Eric. "And I cannot wait to see what you will do."

Eric blinked back tears. Grimsby often told him he was proud of him, but Eric found it meaning so much more on this day than any other. Grimsby then moved to the side, making room for Ariel. Carlotta had already helped her put on her smaller robe, and Eric thought she looked radiant and very regal. All that was missing was her crown—that would come later. He had no doubt she would serve as a wonderful queen, and he felt so much better knowing he would have her by his side.

Ariel took his hand in hers. "Are you ready?"

Eric wasn't sure what he would have done if he hadn't met Ariel before his coronation. He would have never been brought out of his panicking. Though nervous thoughts still ran through him—they would until the ceremony was complete—they were somewhat subdued by the idea that with Ariel by his side, her good soul would let him know if he ever started to become like his father.

Eric squeezed her hand with the brightest smile he gave that day. "As long as you're with me."

And they both knew they were going to be by each other's side for a long time to come.


End file.
